


(and i'm not even) five foot three

by Pippin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Astrid POV, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, this is ikithon we're talking about
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippin/pseuds/Pippin
Summary: A love story in pieces and over a lifetime
Relationships: Astrid/Eodwulf/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	(and i'm not even) five foot three

The village of Blumenthal was small, peaceful. The sort of place where children ran and played, where everyone knew each other, where families lived and died for generations. A quiet village set into the fertile farmlands of the Zemni fields, an area within the Empire and yet set apart linguistically and culturally, still clinging to the old ways predating the civilization around them.

There wasn’t much better than the smell of chocolate and cinnamon in the mornings, the sweet scents mingling together and drifting through the small home from the family bakery below. It was the best wakeup call.

Astrid snuggled deeper into her blankets, letting them shield her from the crisp morning air coming through her cracked open window. She knew that soon her mother would come to wake her to get ready for school, the first day for the year, but she would take the few stolen moments she could get.

Soon enough, there was a gentle rapping on her door. “Astrid, darling,” came her mother’s voice. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, Mama,” Astrid replied, reluctantly pulling away from her blanket cocoon. She liked school, she did, but there was nothing like staying in the comfort and warmth of one’s own bed, surrounded by the smells of baked goods from below.

Astrid dressed quickly, not wanting to deal too much with the cold air, especially after having been so warm. If there was one thing she hated, it was being cold.

“Mama, will you do my hair?” Astrid called as she left her room, dressed for the day in her favorite green dress. Her hair was long, a tangle of deep brown curls that she hadn’t yet learned to tame on her own. Her mother, however, had a talent for making neat braids out of the disaster, for which Astrid was grateful. Someday she was going to chop it all over, she promised herself as her mother’s delicate fingers danced among the strands. She didn’t care what tradition and the unspoken rules of the village said. She wanted it gone.

The school was at the end of the village, across from the temple, a tiny one-room building that housed the entirety of the school system for the village, students from the age of 6 until 14, when most students would leave to work and help support their families. If a student really wanted to keep learning they would travel to a village a week’s travel away, one that kept students until age 18. 

Astrid thought that she would do that someday. She still had a lot of time to decide, though, given that she was only 10.

There were many more students than there had been the previous year, not all of them young. There were a handful around Astrid’s own age, and she vaguely remembered hearing her parents talking about a new ruling that had been made.

Before, the farmers who lived in the surrounding areas had been allowed to homeschool their children so as to have the extra hands. But now they were required to come to the village school. Astrid hoped that there would be someone new at her level; as it stood it was only herself and her best friend Eodwulf and she would love a new person to bounce ideas off of in class.

A hand fell on Astrid’s shoulder and she jumped and turned, ready to punch whoever it was. Her preparation was unneeded, however, as the hand turned out to be attached to a smiling half-elf. Eodwulf.

Astrid punched him anyway for startling her, but he just laughed, the bastard. It wasn’t like she could have hurt him, anyway. Eodwulf was the son of the village blacksmith and was already apprenticed to his father, training at the forge when he wasn’t at school.

“I heard there’s one boy our age,” he told her, looking around at all the children gathered. “Not sure who.”

Astrid looked around as well, but before she had a chance to do any more the school bell tolled and she filed into the building alongside the other children.

A small red-haired boy was sitting on the bench that made up their row, hunched in on himself and picking at loose threads on the fingerless gloves he wore.

Astrid sat on one side of him and Wulf on the other, eager to meet their new classmate.

The boy looked alarmed and shrunk further back into himself, trying to hide among the layers of coat and scarf he wore.

Eodwulf stuck a hand out in the boy’s direction. “Hi! I’m Wulf, and this is Astrid. We’re going to be your year buddies. Which means we  _ have _ to be best friends. What’s your name?”

Astrid didn’t think the boy could have looked more frightened, but apparently she was mistaken, as the boy noticeably pulled away from Eodwulf, consequently backing into Astrid. He jumped, turning to face her, and Astrid thought he was about to cry.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said as comfortingly as she could, hoping to make the boy feel better. “I know it’s scary being away from your parents for the first time.” Gods, she felt like she was talking to one of the younger children, but she didn’t know what else to say. “But you’re going to learn so much!” She elbowed him gently in the side with a smile, but frowned when she hit something hard.

The boy immediately uncurled enough to bat her away and place his hand protectively over his side.

“Is that a book?” Astrid asked, eyes bright. “I love to read! Wulf and I both do.” She leaned close. “Can I tell you a secret? We want to go to university Rexxentrum or Zadash someday!”

The boy looked the most intrigued he had thus far. “I want that too,” he murmured.

Astrid could tell she’d finally found a way through this boy’s shell, but before she got a change to probe it further the teacher called the class to order and it had to be put aside.

* * *

Wulf pulled the new boy, whose name they  _ still _ hadn’t got, over to their favorite lunch and recess spot in the small copse of trees by the schoolhouse.

“We still don’t know your name,” he pointed out as he and Astrid unpacked their lunches, swapping pieces as usual.

The boy watched the exchange of food with an odd look in his eyes. “…Bren,” he said finally. “Bren Aldric Ermendrud.”

He pulled out his own lunch, bread and cheese, and frowned for a moment before tearing it into thirds and offering Astrid and Eodwulf parts, mimicking what he watched them do earlier.

Astrid shook her head but offered a pastry, fresh baked that morning. 

“It has to be a trade,” Bren said, voice matter-of-fact. “I can’t just take something. Especially not a sweet. They’re for special occasions.”

“Astrid’s family owns the bakery,” Wulf cut in. “She has pastries every day, and she brings them to share.”

Bren’s bright eyes searched Wulf’s face for a moment before he nodded. Apparently he had seen the truth in the statement, since he took the offered dessert.

Once they were finished eating, Astrid turned to look at Bren. “What’s your book?” she asked, eager for whatever new knowledge she could gain.

Bren reached under his coat and fiddled with something before pulling out a ratty looking journal. “It’s a  _ spellbook _ ,” he whispered, voice reverent. “I want to learn  _ magic _ .” He opened the book, showing pages inscribed with arcane runes and scribbled notes. “Well, it’s not actually a spellbook, not yet. You have to use special ink and paper, and we don’t have any. Mama and Papa said that maybe for my birthday they’ll try and get some.” He frowned. “I know a cantrip, though!”

He concentrated for a moment, pulling something from his pocket and whispering words Astrid couldn’t catch, and then balls of light sprang up around his hands.

Wulf laughed and clapped his hands in delight. Astrid leaned in, looking at the lights intently. 

“Do you have to do anything special to learn to do that?”

Wulf glanced over at Astrid, and she nodded slightly. She was  _ going _ to learn to do that.

Bren shook his head. “It takes a little bit of time to learn, but I could teach you.”

* * *

It wasn’t long before Bren, Astrid, and Eodwulf were inseparable. The other two already had been joined at the hip, and Bren fit right in. It was hard when they weren’t in school, given that Bren lived further out, but they did their best.

With the hunger the three had for knowledge and learning, school wasn’t the most interesting. The teacher was handling close to twenty-five children, which meant she couldn’t dedicate time to three little geniuses, so the trio did a lot on their own outside of school hours. Astrid and Wulf quickly learned that Bren had a perfect memory and a talent for timekeeping, alongside a talent for teaching magic.

Astrid and Wulf had always had their own little study group in the evenings, learning history and science and anything else they could get their hands on. They wanted to include Bren, but it was a trek out to his home, and they didn’t quite know the way.

Nonetheless, they were doing their best. There were only so many farms in the area, and even if they went to the wrong door there was sure to be someone who could direct them to the right one.

It didn’t take long. Longer than the run from Astrid’s house to Wulf’s, but given that they lived on the same main road in town, that wasn’t much of a surprise.

Bren’s father opened the door. “Can I help you?”

“We’re friends of Bren,” Wulf said, and the man’s face lit up.

“I’m so glad he has friends,” he said quietly, gesturing for the pair to come inside. “We were…concerned.”

Bren was sitting in the corner by the fire, a cat curled in his lap and a book above it. He looked up when his friends entered, a grin splitting his face.

Astrid came and plopped down beside him, peering over to see what the book was. Bren tipped it towards her, revealing a battered tome on the Calamity. 

The cat hopped up at Bren’s movement, stuck its butt into the air, and sauntered off. Bren ran his hand down its back and tail as it went, a soft smile on his face.

“What’s the cat’s name?”

“Frumpkin,” Bren replied, still with that soft smile. Astrid could tell that he was incredibly fond of the animal.

Wulf came over and joined the others, pulling his books out of the satchel he carried.

“Astrid and I always used to study together at night, the things we don’t learn in school. Like that book you have on the Calamity. We thought you would like to join.”

Bren nodded, setting his book on his lap so that the others could see it. It felt right.

* * *

Months passed in the same way, even through the winter. They shifted their lunch study sessions away from practical magic and into what little pieces of theory they could get, not wanting to make a scene in the confines of the schoolhouse.

One spring day, as the three of them poured over Bren’s “spellbook” in the trees over lunch, one of the younger students stumbled into their lair. Astrid dropped her Dancing Lights spell as the girl stared at them and ran back out.

“Shit,” Wulf murmured.

There wasn’t enough time to try and run before the teacher came back, not that they could have anyway. They would have to return to the school at some point, never mind that the teacher knew their families. Town was small enough.

“Isalde said that you were doing magic.”

Astrid gulped, Bren retreated into himself in that way he had, and Wulf glared back. “What of it?”

“Where did you learn magic?”

None of them said anything, until a moment later Bren spoke up. “I taught them.”

“Where did you learn?”

“…I taught myself. I read about it.”

The teacher arched an eyebrow in surprise but said nothing further.

***

They heard nothing more of it for days, even at home. Whatever the teacher had wanted to find out, she hadn’t thought it worth passing the information on to their parents.

Astrid was watching her younger brothers and sisters when the knock came on the door. Ott ran over and opened it. He immediately backed away, however, when he realized that he didn’t know the woman who stood there. Strangers weren’t common in Blumenthal, and less so ones who looked as official and fancy as the one at their door.

“I’m looking for Astrid,” she said in accented Zemnian.

Astrid set the baby down in his cradle and walked over to the door. “Who are you?”

“I’m Anna Leeling, with the Soltryce Academy.”

Astrid gaped at her. The Soltryce Academy was a famous school of magical learning in Rexxentrum. In all her dreams of attending a proper school someday, Astrid had never even touched the Academy. Even once Bren started teaching them magic, it hadn’t been something she’d considered. But still…

“It should be Bren you’re talking to. He’s the one who taught us.”

One corner of Anna’s mouth pulled up in a smile. “Don’t worry, darling, we’re talking to him as well. You, him, and your friend Eodwulf. From what we understand, the three of you have great potential and we want to offer the three of you a place at our Academy.”

The very offer took Astrid’s breath away.

“We’ll be here in town for the next week. Hopefully the three of you return with us to Rexxentrum at the end of that time.”

It took everything in Astrid not to run to Eodwulf’s house as soon as Anna was gone, but she knew she still had her siblings to look after. If she left now there was no hope for ever going to the Academy.

Luckily, it wasn’t that much longer until her parents returned, and as soon as they were through the door Astrid was back out, before the latch had even took.

Bren had beaten her to Eodwulf’s, unsurprisingly. He would have been able to leave as soon as he’d gotten the news, and even with the greater distance the time difference would have been enough to allow him to arrive before her.

Wulf was in the middle of wrestling with his older brother, while Bren sat along side the younger at the table, a bemused expression on his face.

Wulf looked up to see Astrid and immediately tapped out of the scuffle, coming to join his friends.

“The  _ Academy _ ,” he said, eyes glowing with excitement and voice filled with the same. “Imagine it!”

“I never even allowed myself to dream about it,” Astrid admitted, voice soft. “The admissions process was far too rigorous, especially for people who’ve never had a formal day’s training.”

“Think about the  _ cost _ .” Bren, ever the pragmatist, popped the bubble of their excitement immediately. “My family for certain can’t afford it.”

Even if the others could afford it, which Astrid honestly wasn’t sure was possible, they couldn’t go without Bren. It was unthinkable. All this was because of him; they couldn’t leave him behind.

“I won’t go if you can’t.” Wulf voiced what Astrid was thinking, but Bren shook his head.

“You have to. Come back and teach me what you’ve learned.” Bren’s voice was sincere but his eyes were sad. Astrid couldn’t stand that look.

She reached out and laid a hand on Bren’s. “I’m with Wulf. We can’t leave you here. If anyone should go, it should be you. This is all because of you, after all.”

Bren continued trying to argue, but Astrid and Eodwulf wouldn’t let him.

“Together, or not at all.”

* * *

It was nerve-wracking, going back to meet the mages of the Soltryce Academy. Terrifying to have to tell the most powerful people they’d ever met ‘no.’

There were three of them, Anna and two men. All three were young, beautifully dressed, exuding an air of confidence and power. Astrid wanted to be just like them, but she knew it would never happen.

“Thank you for your offer,” Wulf started, clearly trying to sound older than he was. “We can’t take it, though.”

One of the men stepped forward. “Why ever not?” he asked in Common. “We’re offering you the chance to hone your magical abilities, to serve your Empire. It’s the highest honor.”

Bren sighed. “You take in the children of the rich and powerful. We’re just from a tiny village in the Zemni Fields. Your tuition is more than my family will ever make.”

Anna laughed. “Darlings, we’re offering you a place, tuition and all. No charge. We are, after all,  _ very _ interested in the three of you and your potential.”

Wulf swore softly, words he wasn’t meant to know but did anyway and had taught to his friends.

“Free,” Bren whispered, awe in his voice. “This is actually something we can  _ do _ .”

Their parents really didn’t take much convincing. It was a huge honor for their children to be chosen at all, especially given the absence of an application, and even more so for them to be able to attend for free.

* * *

The trio’s first glimpse of Rexxentrum was…overwhelming was an understatement. They came from a tiny town in the Zemni Fields inhabited by less than a thousand people; a city, the capital of the entire Empire…it was a lot. None of them had ever been further than a few miles from home. 

The Academy occupied a sprawling area of greenery in the center of the city, several buildings around a courtyard. It was bigger than anything they’d ever seen before.

The group climbed out of the carriage and took their bags. Anna gestured for Astrid to follow her, while the men led Wulf and Bren in a different direction.

“Where are they going?” Astrid asked, worried.

Anna laughed. “The boys’ dorm is on that side of the campus. The girls are over here.”

She led Astrid to a long building and then inside. “Your classmates are mostly already here,” she said, gesturing to an open room lined with beds, a chest at the foot of each and a wardrobe in the space between it and the next. “This will be your bed. Do you need anything else?”

Astrid shook her head. “When will my classmates be back?”

“Soon. They should just be at dinner now.”

Anna left Astrid to her own devices, and she quickly unpacked. Her few meager belongings barely filled any of the chest and wardrobe, and even the nicest dresses she owned looked unbearably shabby next to the room itself.

As Astrid was thinking about this, the chatter of voices filled the air. A group of girls, about ten in all, filtered in, talking and laughing amongst themselves. They were all older than Astrid was, anywhere from teenagers to adults. She suddenly felt very small and young and  _ poor _ .

“Who are you?” one of the girls, one of the ones close to Astrid’s own age, said, hopping up to sit on Astrid’s bed. “I’m Lula! I’m from Zadash.” 

“Astrid. From Blumenthal.”

Lula made a face. “I’ve never heard of that place. But your accent is cool!”

“Blumenthal is in the Zemni Fields,” Astrid explained, Common feeling clunky on her tongue. Of course she spoke it, they all did, but Zemnian was still her first language, and the one she was more comfortable in.

“Come on, Lula,” a haughty-looking girl said. “They’re all poor over there. Not the sort of people you want to be associating with.”

Lula didn’t argue, just let the other girl lead her away. It stung, but Astrid wasn’t about to let that show. She was here to do her family and her village proud, and she wasn’t going to let any snobby rich girls stop her from that.”

* * *

“So what if we’re poor,” Wulf argued over breakfast the next morning, the Zemnian coming as a welcome relief to Astrid. “It just means that we know how to work harder. We’ve had to work for everything. We all worked for our families, and we didn’t have the private tutors and money to get in here.”

Bren butted his head lightly against Astrid’s shoulder, a show of affection and support. Astrid ruffled his hair in reply and reached for another piece of toast. The food here was richer than anything the three of them had ever had at home, which Astrid supposed made sense, but for as good as it was, she missed the pastries from the bakery and sharing home cooking with Eodwulf and Bren.

The trio was pulled into the office of one of the higher-ups in the school after breakfast.

“As you have had no formal training in the past, we are going to need to bring you up to speed before you can join your classmates,” the man explained. “I am Master Rienok, and I’ve been given this task.”

He handed them each a leather-bound book, an inkwell, and a pen. “Most of our students come in with their own preliminary spellbooks, but I’ve been told that given your… _ circumstances _ , you are not so fortunate.”

Astrid glanced over to Wulf sitting beside her. The contempt for their poorer upbringings was clear in everything this man said.

“These will be your first spellbooks. As a test of your abilities, I have a spell here for you to copy out and then cast.”

Master Rienok handed them each a scroll. “We have each of our students summon a familiar, a companion. We’ve found that it is useful in helping especially children deal with the stress of being away from home for the first time, as well as giving each student a way of handling stress. The spell is only a first level, so you should be able to handle it.”

Wary, they each took the offered scroll. None of them wanted to tell this man that they’d only cast cantrips before, not having been able to afford proper paper and ink. He likely suspected, but they didn’t want to confirm.

Astrid moved to sit on the floor, needing a solid writing space. The runes on the paper swirled before her eyes. She recognized them from Bren’s journal, but this was her first time writing them out herself.

She glanced over at her friends. Bren, familiar already with copying spells, even if not for real, was well into it, and Eodwulf, ever the artist, was not far behind. So she got to work.

It was slow going. She could understand the ideas and what she would need to do, but the runes themselves meant nothing, and she needed to check and double check each stroke.

She was about halfway through when her focus was drawn away by Bren clapping his hands delightedly. She looked over to see a Bengal cat curling against him, eyes a shade of blue uncannily similar to Bren’s own. Bren scratched his eyes, a look of satisfaction on his face. 

Of course he was the first to figure it out.

It was nearing half an hour later and Astrid was almost done when Eodwulf successfully cast the spell. There was suddenly a wolf in the room and Astrid caught Bren’s eye before they both burst into giggles. Wulf looked defensive for a moment before joining in.

Only Astrid remained now, and she finished quickly enough, jumping when a tortoise appeared in her lap.

Master Rienok looked pleased. “Very good. Now, I will be tutoring you to bring you up to speed. Pay attention, please.”

* * *

It didn’t take long for the three of them to catch up to their classmates. They’d always been avid learners, and this was no different. Things in the dorm got a little better as Astrid got to know the girls, but many of them still thought her below them due to her upbringing. 

Astrid did her best to not let it bother her, sticking close to Bren and Wulf, but she couldn’t help the nagging thoughts nudging at her brain. Was she really good enough to be here? Were the others right, she would never amount to anything? Even after graduation, she would be hard pressed to be able to find a place in the city, and if she went back to Blumenthal she would never leave.

* * *

It was the Harvest Close festival and they were off school. Wulf insisted on going into the city for the festival proper, taking what little spending money their parents sent them and enjoying the festivities. Astrid was all for it. They came from a farming community, of course Harvest Close was important. She was curious to see how these people who didn’t have the same connections as they did would celebrate.

It was a lot more of a party than the trio was used to. In Blumenthal, Harvest Close signaled the beginning of a period of rest, of renewal. The farmers who had been working hard all growing season took the chance to breathe, to indulge in ale and good food with the people who lived in the main town. There were games and dancing, of course, but more than that, it was a celebration of a successful harvest, a guarantee that they would have the food to live until the spring came.

In Rexxentrum, however, the people were not nearly as bound to the land. Harvest Close was more traditional than it was meaningful, something three children from a farming community didn’t quite know how to deal with.

They did, though, spend a fair bit of coin on treats.

“It’s not as good as your family’s, Astrid,” Wulf mumbled through a mouthful of tart, and Astrid laughed. 

“Nothing is as good as home.”

“Except magic,” Bren pointed out, tipping his head to rub his cheek against his new Frumpkin’s fur. He wore the cat as a scarf, likely a grounding technique in the crush and bustle of the crowd.

“Magic is wonderful,” Astrid agreed, taking a big bite of her caramel apple and turning to watch a pair of dwarven tumblers. Everything was so much, all kinds of things the children had never seen before.

There were games of chance and skill, performers on every corner, more food stands than any of them would have ever thought possible. Everything was shiny and eye catching, distracting in all the best ways. It was the very incarnation of everything that had changed in their lives.

* * *

Going back to Blumenthal was strange. It had been nearly ten months since any of the trio had set foot in their hometown, ten months of learning magic and the ways of their richer classmates, of changing in little ways that they hadn’t even noticed until they returned home.

Wulf’s brothers were the first to point the changes out, naturally. Everyone else was too polite to say anything, but the same didn’t hold true for siblings. It was in the very nature of those relationships to poke fun, and Wulf’s older brother Heorot in particular lived to give his younger brothers hell.

Astrid could tell he’d been teasing Wulf since their return home, but it was when the three families gathered together for dinner that he included Astrid and Bren in that teasing.

“You’re fancy now,” he said, tossing a piece of bread at Wulf’s head. “All three of you. What, you went to school and decided that you’re too good for us?”

“We were always too good for you,” Astrid replied haughtily. She’d been friends with Wulf long enough to know that the best response was to turn the teasing back around on Heorot.

He laughed. “You’re a quick one.”

* * *

Classes got harder as the trio progressed, but that was to be expected. They all took to it as if they’d been training in magic their entire life, however. Power was something that rose easily to Astrid’s fingertips, and while she would never have Bren’s skill, she still outpaced Wulf. He was better at copying over spells, his innate artistic ability better than Astrid’s dedication, but she was leagues ahead in theory and understanding the arcane.

They had been asked by one of their teachers to tutor a few first-years, with the argument that not only were they extremely gifted students and this was a good opportunity for them to increase their own abilities, but also that they were the same ages as the first-years and would therefore be better able to establish rapport.

It was so odd seeing children their own age. They’d gotten so used to being around their older classmates and professors, only with each other, which hardly counted. Not to mention, the first-years looked at them with fear in their eyes. Not so much fear of Astrid and Eodwulf and Bren, but fear of being in a new environment, fear of being away from home, fear of new expectations. At home they might have been prodigies, but here they were just like everyone else.

There were three of them, two girls and a boy, one for each of them to work with. Astrid took one of the girls, the daughter of a wealthy merchant near Bladegarden, and Bren the other, this one a halfling from Nicodranis. Vel and Pippa both were hard workers, dealing with issues that were easy enough for Astrid and Bren to assist with. Eodwulf’s boy, however, was an arrogant son of a titled family in Zadash, a snobbish sort who thought he knew best on everything, even as the results of his exams and classwork spoke to the opposite.

Vel was a delight, her only issue that she was overwhelmed with the amount of coursework. It was simple enough for Astrid to meet with her for fifteen minutes a day to assist with organization and giving Vel the order in which she should do things. It was all the help she needed.

Pippa was a little more of a time investment for Bren, albeit no less a delight. Her hearing loss forced Bren to come up with creative ways to modify spells for her, somatic components combining with her sign language in a method that was honestly beautiful. Much to the trio’s dismay, however, none of them could cast using signs as Pippa could, though not for lack of trying.

Eodwulf, on the other hand, was constantly on the edge of tearing his hair out. His student wouldn’t listen to him, ignoring his greater experience and ability to focus on why he, a noble, should listen to someone from a poor farming village.

“He’ll never make it here,” Wulf confided in his friends one day as they did their own schoolwork in the courtyard. “He thinks he’s better than everyone and that he doesn’t need to do any work. Means that while his spellcasting is good, he doesn’t have anything else. None of the groundwork.”

Bren scritched Frumpkin behind his ears. He might not have been a real cat, but Bren treated him like one. “Just do your best.”

* * *

Eodwulf looked extremely worried as he slid into his seat next to Astrid one day a few weeks later. “Bren is missing.”

Astrid looked to the empty seat on her other side. Bren was never late, showing up even when sick. Not to mention, he and Eodwulf shared a dormitory. If he had simply been ill, Wulf would have known.

They couldn’t do much while in class, but they immediately went to the professor once class was over. 

“Do you know what’s happened to Bren?” Astrid tried to keep the worry and fear out of her voice, to no avail.

“Ah, yes.” The woman glanced at the pair and smiled. “Master Ikithon has taken him for special training.”

Astrid saw Wulf’s eyes go wide in her periphery, a sentiment she mimicked. Master Ikithon was a member of the Cerberus Assembly, an  _ archmage _ . For him to take Bren for training—it was an incredible honor. Of course, they would miss their friend, but he deserved all the good things.

* * *

Adjusting to life without Bren was difficult. Astrid hadn’t realized just how much she needed her boys until one of them was torn away. It was like missing a limb.

Classes continued and life went on, essays and memorizing spells and readings, but all that time the ache was still there, reminding Astrid and Wulf of what they had lost. Of course, this was good for Bren, getting the chance to train under an archmage. Someone had  _ really _ looked past Bren’s poor farm boy exterior, a reminder of where he came from, and saw his future, where he could go. It was such a good thing, but of course it still hurt for those left behind.

Bren hadn’t been the only student with red hair, but Astrid had never really paid any mind to the others. Now, however, every flash of red had her snapping to face it, hoping against all reason that it might be Bren. 

It never was.

* * *

Weeks passed, stretching into months, and Bren didn’t return. That made sense, of course it did, but realizing the logic between Bren not needing to return to the Academy now that he was training directly under an archmage and letting go of the associated hurt were two very different things.

Astrid and Eodwulf grew closer, clinging to each other to try and fill the hole still gaping and raw in their chests. More than once they smuggled the other into their dormitories, curling around each other in a desperate attempt to hold back the tears. Astrid had her first kiss like that, wrapped around the boy she had grown up with.

She had never once considered either of her boys a potential partner, thinking of them for so long as something close to brothers, but it seemed the logical next step. Comfort could come even in the form of physical, and things were changing, anyway. And if the other girls gently teased Astrid for ‘finally’ having a boyfriend, well, it was a good distraction from missing Bren.

Something about it still didn’t feel quite right, but Astrid shoved it aside, taking what was good and ignoring the knot of discontent in her chest.

* * *

Astrid had her fingers entwined in Wulf’s through the thick wool of their gloves as they walked to class through the light snowfall when suddenly Wulf tore away with a cry, dashing towards a figure shadowed between two buildings.

Cursing her weaker human eyes, Astrid followed him, straining to see what he was so worked up about.

When she arrived, all Astrid could see around the mass of Wulf’s body was a shock of red hair shorn short and black and red clad arms around him, blackened fingers clenching into fists in his clothes.

The hair was shorter than she had ever seen it and the clothes were new, but Astrid would recognize those hands anywhere.

Astrid gasped and darted in to hug Bren around Wulf, wiggling her way in between her two boys. It felt right in a way she hadn’t anticipated, being lightly crushed between their two larger bodies. It settled that feeling in her chest of something in her relationship with Wulf being wrong, and Astrid breathed in a silent breath of realization and released it as a sigh of contentment. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come shout at me on tumblr.


End file.
